


Boulder to Birmingham

by mckendie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Background Character Death, Dealing With Loss, Gen, HQ Brofest, HQ Brofest Rookie Tier, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of Crying, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mckendie/pseuds/mckendie
Summary: "I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham.If I thought I could see, I could see your face."Goshiki learns something in the worst of ways and Tendou is there for him.





	Boulder to Birmingham

Tsutomu had learned a long time ago that bad things happened to good people

Like when Shirabu lost his aunt, or when Ushijima's grandmother had fallen ill.

The truth was, it didn't make tragedy any easier to handle.

He had received only a text from his mother, short and to the point, the vision of a dead friend and trembling hands etched into his mind’s eye by it, accompanied by a phantom scream of horror, choked by a sob. 

He did his best not to cry during the last ten minutes of class. It was like a weight had settled itself across his lungs.

When he got to the club room he changed slowly, trying to keep his head occupied. After, Tsutomu didn't head into the gym but, with one eye watching for witnesses, slipped into a supply closet. He assumed his team would find him at the end of practice when they put the nets up. As soon as the door was shut behind him Tsutomu slumped down, leaning against a rack of mops on his right and his legs pressed against the shelf for the nets on the left. 

It was uncomfortable but it made Tsutomu feel a little bit smaller, a little bit less out of control, like it was holding him together where his seams were ripping. He let himself cry after a few minutes, head dropping to his knees and great, heaving sobs shaking his whole body.

It hurt, deep in his heart and in the pit of his stomach.

But he had no right to the pain, he hadn't seen the boy in two years, when he had left for high school and Tsutomu had just started his second year of middle school. They hadn't been friends for a long time, not from a fall out or hatred, but because of change. 

He wished he could distance himself from the memories bubbling up in his chest, playing through his head like a light-hearted movie with a dark ending.

Running through the backyard, swords made from sticks clacking together and the loud echoes of laughter. Quiet sessions around the dining room table, pencils of all colors in their hands as they created new pokemon and bragged ceaselessly about their power. Passing out with games still held tightly in tiny fingers, on a bed much too small for two people. Muffled laughter and shushes too loud for the cabinet they had hidden in, knees pulled up to their chests and toes barely touching as they listened for his mother. 

They would eventually break, their giggles leaking from the cracks in the cabinet as they each tried to shove the other into shutting up. It had only ever made them laugh harder.

They would lock pinkies and smile, promising to go down together.

Tsutomu's heart lurched a little, ice cold and sharp in his chest, a numbing pain spreading out from his core. 

He _missed_ him, _had_ missed him for a long time.

With his eyes shut tight the slam of the half open door closing echoed like a gunshot through the enclosed space. He could hear footsteps on the cold tile. He couldn't see their owner, just thin hands gripping a gun and pulling the trigger, face still the same age as when they were friends.

Tsutomu bit his lip and pressed his palms hard into his eyes, trying to clear his head of the haunting image. Somewhere, with the sliver of his head not otherwise occupied, he hoped whoever had opened the door wasn't Washijou, but he couldn't let go of the shelter of darkness, futily hiding from his memories.

Whoever the visitor was sank down to sit next to him, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click.

After a few minutes of silence Tsutomu pulled one hand from his face and peered over at the concerned face of Tendou Satori. His hair was still swept up as it always was, but his eyebrows were drawn together and his smile pulled down into a frown.

When he met Tsutomu's eye, his face softened a bit.

"I knew him too," Satori explained, leaning to press against Tsutomu's side, resting his head on top of his teammate's. Tsutomu felt a few warm tears drip past Satori's chin and into his hair. He didn't comment on it.

They were silent for a while, just sitting there, staring into the dark depths of the supply closet. 

"You know," Satori drawled, a little bit of his usual teasing tone coloring his words again, "I was his first kiss." 

Tsutomu muffled a wet chuckle in Satori's shoulder, the laugh bringing a few more tears with it.

"No really, Tsutomu!" Satori assured him, "I knew him when we were both five and me, thinking that it's just what you did when someone dear to you is saying bye, grabbed him by his face and kissed him." 

They both giggled a little, voices thick with tears.

"I ran him over with one of those toddler sized Jeeps when I was four and he was six," Tsutomu recalled, through growing sobs, pressing his face tighter to Satori's shoulder.

Silently, Satori pulled a long arm over Tsutomu's shoulders, hauling him a little closer and turning to hug him properly.

A few moments later, Satori was crying again, clutching at Tsutomu's back a little tighter than necessary, like it was the only thing keeping him in place.

They sat like that for a long time; Tsutomu's head buried in Satori's shoulder, arms wrapped around him and his weight resting awkwardly on his hip as Satori sobbed quietly into his hair, arms pulling Tsutomu as close as possible.

Satori's voice was shattered as he mumbled into Tsutomu's hair and despite his best attempts to ignore the specific words they rang loud and clear in his head.

"I could have helped him, you know? If I wasn't so..." the mumbling broke for a moment with a sob, "if I wasn't so _blind_ I could've stopped him."

Inside, Tsutomu felt a little bit shattered, like the world around him was crumbling to pieces _because how could this be real?_ He still felt so cold, even with hot tears trailing down his cheeks and dripping into his hair.

He held onto Satori a little bit tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> i probaby should've written something else for brofest but here it is, the fic where i poured all the stuff and feelings that came with winter break out. it definitely isn't what i was going for and it's kind of dissapointing but it's something.
> 
> ~~(jeremy will never read this but thanks for being there in the middle of math class my dude)~~


End file.
